Red Gets A Delivery, And A Veteran?


The three reds approaches Hanby and Sarge.

Sarge: Hurry up, ladies. This ain't no ice cream social.

Simmons: Ice cream social?

Simmons, Patterson and Grif exchange looks.

Patterson: We're social?

Hanby: Ey you three, shut up!

Sarge: Anyways... Anyone want to guess why I gathered you here today?

Grif: Uh, is it because the war's over and you're sending us home?

Hanby: Really? Really?

Sarge: (Sarcastically) That's exactly it, Private. War's over. We won. Turns out you're the big hero and we're gonna hold a parade in your honor. Hanby here makes the float, I get to drive the aforementioned float, and Simmons here IS IN CHARGE OF CONFETTI!

Grif: I'm no stranger to sarcasm, sir.

Sarge: Goddamn it, Private! Shut your mouth or else I'll have Simmons slit your throat while you're asleep!

Simmons: Oh I'd do it, too.

Hanby: (sighs)

Sarge: I know you would, Simmons. Good man. (brief pause) Couple of things today, ladies. Command has seen fit to increase our ranks here at Blood Gulch Outpost Number One.

Grif: Crap. We're getting a rookie.

Sarge: That's right, dead man. Our new recruit will be here within the week, but today we received the first part of our shipment from Command, and since we've been doing great! They gave us three today.

Grif, Patterson and Simmons exchange looks again. Sarge turns towards a hill behind them.

Sarge: Lopez, Fong, bring up the vehicle.

Two large, armor-plated, jeep-like vehicle comes over the rise with brown armor (Lopez) and amber armor (Fong) in the two driver seat, who pulls up along side the Reds.

Fong: Howdy doody, bitches!

Simmons: Shotgun!

Grif: Shotgun! (realizes he's too late) Fuck.

Patterson: Shot-Fuck!

Hanby: (laughs) Shotfuck?

Patterson: Oh, Shut up!

Sarge: May I introduce our two new, light reconnaissance vehicle.

Camera closes in on the front of the vehicle and starts to move left, circling it.

Sarge: It has four inch armor plating, mag bumper suspension, a mounted machine gunner position, and total seating for three. Gentlemen, this is the M12 LRV! I like to call it the Warthog.

Simmons: Why Warthog, sir?

Sarge: Because M12 LRV is too hard to say in conversation, son.

Fong: "Hey man why are you driving the M12 LRV." "Because the M12 RL— VL— LRV is a part of my life man."

Sarge: Case in point, Thank you Officer Fong.

Grif: I know, but why Warthog? I mean, it doesn't really look like a pig.

Sarge: (after a brief pause) Say that again.

Grif: I think it looks more like a puma.

Patterson: nah I don't think so, kinda looks like a noseless elephant

Sarge: What in Sam Hell is a puma?

Simmons: Uh, you mean like the shoe company?

Grif: No, like a puma. It's a big cat, like a lion.

Sarge: You're making that up.

Hanby: It's like a cat lion

Fong: No its a small female lion... I think.

Grif: I'm telling you, it's a real animal!

Sarge: Simmons, I want you to poison Grif's next meal.

Simmons: Yes, sir!

Patterson: better pick which plates, he has a lot of plates.

Simmons: (Brief pause) Dammit.

Sarge: (pointing at the front of the Warthog) Look, see these two tow hooks? They look like tusks, and what kind of animal has tusks?

Grif: A walrus.

Sarge: Didn't I just tell you to stop making up animals?!

Hanby: (facepalm) Goddammit... In a canyon of fuckin idiots


To Church and Tucker

Church, wielding the rifle, and Tucker, wielding a M6D pistol.

Tucker: what is that thing?

Church lowers the rifle.

Church: I don't know, man. Looks like uh.. looks like they've got some sorta car down there. Two of them actually. We'd better get back to base and report it.

Tucker: (taken aback) A car? How come they get a car?! Two of them in fact!

Church: What are you complaining about, man? We're about to get a tank in the very next drop.

Tucker: (disappointed) You can't pick up chicks in a tank.

Church: Oh, you know what? You could bitch about anything couldn't you? We're going to get a tank, and you're worried about chicks. What chicks are we gonna pick up, man? And secondly, how are you gonna pick up chicks in a car that looks like that?

Tucker: (sighs) What kind of car is it?

Church: (looking through the scope of the sniper rifle) I dunno, I've never seen a car like that before. It looks like a... uh... like a big cat of some kind.

Tucker: …What, like a puma?

Church: Yeah, man, there you go.


Red Team.

Sarge: So unless anybody has anymore mythical creatures to suggest as a name for the new vehicle, we're going to stick with the Warthog. How about it, Grif?

Grif: No, sir. No more suggestions.

Sarge: Are you sure? How 'bout Bigfoot?

Grif: It's okay.

Sarge: Unicorn?

Grif: No really. Uh, I'm cool.

Sarge: Sasquatch?

Simmons: Leprechaun?

Grif: Hey, he doesn't need any help, man.

Sarge: Phoenix?

Grif: (sighs) Christ.

Sarge: Hey Simmons, what's the name of that Mexican lizard? Eats all the goats.

Simmons: Uh, that would be the Chupacabra, sir.

Sarge: Hey Grif, Chupathingy! How about that? I like it. Gotta ring to it.

Simmons: A Chupacabra, sir?

Grif: Hold on.

Hanby: What?

Grif: You said there's three today, I only see two

Sarge: Ah that's right! (Brief pause) today we get a veteran soldier in our ranks.

Simmons: Wait really?

Patterson: Huh, I thought we were completely useless.

Sarge: That's nonsense Cartoonz, completely nonsense.

Grif: so who's the veteran.

Sarge: Come on out Corporal Wine.

A soldier in white armor black tints with a pink visor comes out of the hill (Wine)

Wine: WADDUP BITCHES!

Grif/Patterson: What the hell!?

Simmons: Sir? He doesn't seem... Red.

Wine: I have a pink visor, and that's enough for me.

Sarge: Men this is Wildcat our new comrade for this war. Now enough chattering and get back to post!

Wine: Got any toilet here? I need to take a po-op.

Patterson: There's a toilet in the middle of the canyon

Fong: Dat?... Dat was a Toilet.


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